


The Other Side

by ladyofsorrows



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adventure, Alteans are angels, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Galras are demons, Gay Keith (Voltron), Ghosts, Lance being a good friend, Lance can talk to ghosts, M/M, Romance, Sad, Thriller, falling in love with a ghost, keith is dead, keith is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 13:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofsorrows/pseuds/ladyofsorrows
Summary: Lance McClain has always been different but nothing about him is as strange as his ability to see and communicate with ghosts.He soon finds himself asking two very important questions when faced with a very angry ghost named Keith.Who knew dead guys could be such asshats? And why the hell is he going to Japan for one?





	The Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be 3-6 chapters, I think, just a cute little idea I had watching the show Ghost Whisperer.  
> Enjoy!

Lance always knew he was a little different. 

Maybe it was the way he walked, the way he talked or the way he held his body. Perhaps it was the fact he was openly bisexual, or maybe it was his Cuban decent. 

Then again, maybe it wasn't any of that at all. Maybe it was the fact that, if he really payed attention, he could see peculiar figures looming in corners or following close behind unsuspecting people minding their own business as they strolled through the shops or down the street. Maybe it was that if he could get the attention of one of the aforementioned figures he could talk to them, understand their oddly distorted voices. 

Lance always knew he was a little different and a long time ago he decided that, despite all of his other quirks, it was primarily because, in the most basic terms, he could talk to ghosts. 

Not the white as a sheet ghosts that walk around all transparent like wailing about revenge, although he had met afew and would never forget how uncomfortable it was sitting in a cinema with one, but ghosts that look like any other human, wearing the clothes they passed in and often portraying forlorn and in no way terrifying, worth making thousands of horror movies out of anyway, expressions. 

At first it had startled him to find out that the many imaginary friends he believed he had as a child were actually the dead walking between the Veil of life and what lies beyond, but he soon embraced it, happy to offer his help to the spirits he can across if they wanted it. 

How he helped? Well it was simple, he needed to help them get to the afterlife and in doing so free them from their mortal form and let them find freedom somewhere else, the afterlife or otherwise, he really didn't know. To do this he usually had to help the ghosts complete any unfinished business, be it to tell a person how much they loved them, maybe apologise for a guilt that still twisted their not so living soul or to take their spirit back to a particular location that would set them free. 

And, Lance had to admit, there was no better feeling than watching a lost soul find themselves and finally be free. He wasn't going to lie, he'd cried more than once watching a particularly friendly ghost leave, but they were always tears of joy. 

It wouldn't take more than a day or two to help the spirits let go of their earthy attachments and finally go into the light, so to speak, they usually only had to locate a person or place in the city and that was easy done with the help of Hunk and Pidge. Despite the clear insanity of his claims to be able to speak to the dead, his two best friends had believed him from the start, his evidence was awfully compelling they admitted, and had happily helped him track down anyone that a ghost needed to communicate with or find the plot of land a building that holds importance for a spirit once stood. 

Yeah, Lance did enjoy helping the dead, but he had to be careful. Demons stalked among the ghosts, unlike them they were usually distorted figures that could barely pass as human, which definitely helped Lance avoid them. It wasn't like they could hurt him, all they could do to the living was alter their moods a little, bring on a spark of anger but to ghosts, these things were brutal. 

The demons, Lance heard they liked being called Galra, consumed wandering souls, using their quintessence (a fancy smancy word Pidge insisted on calling what Lance was sure was the ectoplasm the ghosts were obviously made of) to gain power and size. He'd heard that the more powerful a Galra got, the more affect they could have on human emotion, one day even getting the power to possess them.

Lance was so very thankful he hadn't had the displeasure of meeting a human Galra hybrid yet, but there was still time, he was only seventeen after all and it was clear his human ouija board abilities weren't going to just vanish anytime soon. 

Thankfully for Lance, the first Hybrid he met so many months ago wasn't evil, in fact by the conclusion of their time together he was quite the opposite, a little arrogant and somewhat annoying, but not evil. Despite how much he thought so.

The day they met Lance had been walking home from school, Hunk smiling brightly beside him as he recounted a funny story from his robotics class. "So then Rolo put the plug into the wrong socket and, surprise, surprise, the damn thing blew up in his face."

Lance wheezed with laughter, a hand clamped over his stomach and the other over his red face as he attempted to calm down. He had to stop walking, placing a hand on Hunks sturdy shoulder to steady himself as he pressed his face into his brown laptop satchel, he could feel tears of mirth tracing his cheekbones as Hunk petted his shoulder. "Man oh man."

After a moment he straightened, huffing another few laughs before they began walking again, the sunset casting a calming yellow glow over the almost desolate city street, tall buildings framing the road cutting clearly through them. Hunk let his own laugh die before smiling at Lance, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You done?"

Lance still had a wide smile on his face, the story unfortunately making his day as he nodded. Rolo and he had no bad blood, per se, it was just nice to know that the guy who stole Nymas heart wasn't as perfect as he seemed. "Yeah I'm good."

Hunk held his tongue for another three steps, face almost bursting in half as he spoke in a single breath. "He singed off his left eyebrow."

It took only half a second for Lance to dissolve into peels of unchecked giggles, eyes pinched shut as he stopped again to gain his bearings. He couldn't breathe, every breath replaced with another round of childish laughter. Holy shit he was going to die, and what a way to go. After another minute or five he sighed his final laugh, falling into step with Hunk again as they took a corner down a familiar backstreet, the tall shadow of a building simulating darkness. "Wow."

"Man you're cruel." Hunk said with no malice, pushing on Lances shoulder slightly. 

Lance hummed, shoving back. "Yeah well-"

Then he paused, staring across the street with an unblinking gaze, a figure was curled up in a ball on the gutter lining the rarely used roadside. Hunk made a confused noise at their sudden stop, trying to follow Lances gaze but clearly not pinpointing the exact cause for his staring. That proved one thing to Lance, this figure wasn't human. Well okay, they were, but they weren't exactly a living one. 

"I um, give me a second Hunk, duty calls." He exclaimed while dramatically puffing out his chest. Hunk rolled his eyes but smiled all the same, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket with a nod. 

"Go ahead, let me know if we need Pidge to find someone."

With a nod Lance started to walk toward the figure, steps slow but purposefully loud. He'd learnt from experience it wasn't the smartest idea to sneak up on a ghost, they tended to get a bit pissed off. 

Sure enough the figure shifted when Lance only stood a good four feet away, their back stiffening as they lifted their head of thick black hair off their knees. 

Their eyes locked and Lance felt all the air get knocked out of him, he'd never seen eyes like that on a ghost. Usually their eyes were hollow, perhaps faded but this boys eyes were nothing of the sort. They were a vibrant, cutting violet that betrayed this boys clear predicament, said predicament being death. 

Violet eyes narrowed as he glared at Lance defensively, he wasn't sure if Lance could actually see him it seems. He looked ready to either fight or run the fuck away.

Lance tried to smile his most charming, comforting smile possible as he came only a foot before the boy. He didn't move, smooth and pale skin rigid. Lance took in his attire, happy to see flannel and denim, a modern dress which meant helping this boy wouldn't be as difficult as it was helping Sir Guttersomething or other find the Winston Dining hall which was demolished in the 1800s. 

Of course his modern dress also left Lance with a stabbing guilt. That paired with his young appearance, late teens perhaps, hinted heavily toward a young and recent death. He breathed in, letting his smile even out into something softer before he kneeled before the boy in a non threatening gesture. "Hello?"

The boy jumped, those insanely uncommon eyes now wide as he scrambled back a little. After a moment he narrowed his eyes and growled lowly at Lance, teeth bared. 

Lance gave a small and curious hum, tilting his head. That was new. He tried to keep his tone low and friendly. "Can I help?"

The boy growled again, resting on all fours as he kept wary eyes trained on Lance. 

"It's okay, I know you're confused." Lance tried to ease him with a gentle laugh. "I'm Lance."

The boy looked incredibly shocked by the calm temperament being presented to him. He stepped back again, defensive stance still held as he opened his mouth. "Can I- where'd he- I want to see him.."

Lance couldn't help but gasp at the way he spoke, his voice was like sandpaper drenched in honey and strung up to warm up in the sun. It was distorted, perhaps more so than other spirits, but his breathy and broken tone was still readable and it made Lance frown. "Who do you want to see, I'll find them."

He growled again, Lance stayed perfectly still as the boy watched him. "Why didn't they let me help him?"

He looked emotional now, angry and crying. If Lance didn't know the boy couldn't touch him he'd almost be afraid. He waited, watching the spirit carefully as he took a heavy breathe and calmed down, the purple in his eyes glazing over just a little. "Where the fuck is my brother?"

Lance clicked his tongue, leaning in to actually hear the boy talk before he smiled a little. He had unfinished business with this brother did he? Lance could work with that. "I don't know, but if you come with me I'll help you find him." 

The boy looked at him through his black bangs, lip still curled up in a growl. They held their positions for a good few moments before he nodded his head once. 

As he came to his feet, Lance wondered if the boy knew he was actually dead. Some spirits didn't, living in a constant state of denial, often reliving their last moments in their heads over and over until something snaps them from it. This boy seemed to be the same, screaming about not getting to see his brother. 

They walked together for a moment before Lance paused. He supposed he owed this ethereal figure the truth, if they were going to work as a team to find his brother, or it would be a real bitch attempting to get the information out of him. "So, do you know what you are..?"

The boy flinched, glowering at Lance as he spoke in that disjointed voice. "Yes, but something tells me you don't." 

Lance laughed openly at the claim. What did this boy think this was his first time talking to a spirit? No way. He was glad at least to see the boy was aware of his state, there was nothing more frustrating, and a little sad, than trying to convince someone stubborn that they were unfortunately not among the living. "I think you underestimate me, mullet."

The boy growled, touching the back of his head defensively. "Mullet?"

"Well you haven't given me a name, so I had to make one up." He beamed at Hunk as they came to stand before him, Hunk didn't even bat an eye at his one sided conversation. "Who has a mullet anymore anyway?"

Hunk gave a small hum. "Your uncle had one last Christmas." 

"And it was a fucking mistake." Lance retorted, addressing the mullets confused expression as he stuck a thumb out to Hunk. 

"Can he see me too?"

The Cuban boy shook his head, wrapping an arm around Hunks broad shoulders, said shoulders shaking with laughter. "Nope, only me."

"Right.." Mullet tilted his head at Lance, and he'd be lying right through his teeth if he said it wasn't a little endearing. "Why the hell can you see me?"

Lance shrugged. "No clue, call it a gift. One among my many others."

Mullet rolled his eyes, before smiling a little himself, it was one of the softest smiles Lance had ever set his eyes on. Just as if appeared it disappeared and mullet held a hand out. "I'm.. uhm.. I'm Keith anyway.."

"Keith." Lance tasted the name before nodding toward his hand. "You know I can't-"

Keith blushed a soft red and looked away quickly, the sadness in his eyes made Lance frown. "Right, dead." 

"Anyway, Keith!" Lance cheered, waving his arms excitedly in hopes he'd be able to cajole him out of his suddenly saddened state. The thing with spirits was, if they got over emotional in anyway, it was difficult to bring them back. It was like being dead amplified all emotions, which Lance found funny, previously thinking dead meant every part of you was dead, not strengthened. "This is my best friend Hunk, Hunk this is Keith, somewhere in front of you." 

Hunk rolled his eyes, smiling warmly at where he thought Keith stood. "Hey dude, nice to kind of meet you."

Keith nodded in reply, looking at Lance curiously. "Tell him you too, could you?"

"Bossy." Lance huffed, but relayed the message anyway before Keith spoke up again. 

"Were you kidding before, when you said you'd help me find my brother?" 

Lance smiled softly at the uncertainly in his wavering voice. "No, we'll help you, we do it all the time for spirits to help them cross or something, we're like anti-ghost busters!" 

"That's the dumbest name I've ever heard." The ghost deadpanned, making Lance huff again. 

"What did he say?" Hunk asked with a curious laugh. 

Lance crossed his arms like a pouting child. "That it's a dumb name. I'd like to see you do any better, jackass." 

Keith snorted a short laugh before smiling softly at Lance. It was the same smile that had already sent him reeling more than once that day as that chopping voice became quiet. "Thank you, Lance." 

He gave a nonchalant shrug, face smug. "It's no trouble mullet Boy, now lets go see if Pidge can track down your brother. Shall we?" 

He nodded, following after a smiling Lance and bemused Hunk as they continued down the street, unaware of the danger watching them with sinister eyes.


End file.
